


had me beggin' for the next

by thedeathofhyacinth



Series: Harry Styles/Michael Clifford [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, fuck buddies, harry doesn't ever shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeathofhyacinth/pseuds/thedeathofhyacinth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry talks a lot, basically</p>
            </blockquote>





	had me beggin' for the next

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for toldfaithful on tumblr because Liz is my go-to for Harry/Michael! She's the best and I love her bunches, pretty much. (:
> 
> On tumblr [here!](http://thedeathofhyacinth.tumblr.com/post/96716003087/this-is-all-liz-toldfaithfuls-fault-bc-of-all-our)

"So... English Love Affair, huh?" Harry asks as he licks his way up Michael's neck. He pauses to suck a lovebite at the hinge of Michael's jawline, leaving an imprint of his teeth in his wake. Michael writhes beneath him, pushing his hips up, seeking friction. 

"What about it?" Michael pants, gasps as he ruts against Harry. Are they _really_ talking about this during foreplay? Honestly, shoot him. All he wants is a blowjob, why is he being questioned?! 

Harry doesn't seem to be fazed, however. He smirks up to Michael before nipping along his collarbone. "Why did you feel the need to write a song?" 

"I'd think you, of all people, should know that it's just what we do," Michael huffs out a laugh, arching up into Harry's hands as the ruck up his t-shirt. _So close._ "It should be flattering. You _inspire_ me." 

"Please," Harry whispers, ghosting his lips down Michael's chest. He flicks his tongue against one of Michael's pert, pink nipples. _Closer..._

"Well, would you rather I told you that Ash co-wrote it and we have a nice long chat about how he's fucking your sister?" Michael raises an eyebrow as Harry's eyes flick up to his, a look of disgust on his face. That's what he fucking gets for trying to converse when he should be balls-deep in Michael about now. "Didn't think so." 

"You're a fuck," Harry grumbles before he bites Michael's stomach, right below his naval. It turns Michael _on_ , makes his muscles clench. He threads his fingers into Harry's curls, tugging none-too-gently until Harry glares at him. It's comfortable and very _Them._

"Best fuck you've ever had," Michael hums out, closing his eyes as Harry _finally_ mouths around the base of his cock. "Said so yourself." 

Instead of responding, Harry runs his tongue along the underside of Michael's dick, taking his time coating it so his fingers slide along the velvety skin. Michael digs his knuckles into Harry's scalp, guiding him to the top of his cock and pressing down. The look Harry gives him is dangerous and Michael wonders how many people would pay to have Harry look at them like that. He's heard about "dark Harry" and how much "he"'s desired. [It's bollocks because Harry is too sweet for that kind of shit, but, at the same time, the passionate burn of his eyes is almost palpable.] 

"I can't believe you put the line about me calling you Princess in there," Harry muses, lips brushing against the head of Michael's cock the entire time he talks. It's infuriating and _hot_ and Michael kinda wants to shove his dick down Harry's throat and kinda wants to punch him in the face. He can't really decide. 

"Can you just suck me off already? _God_ ," Michael hisses, pushing Harry's head down again. It's only a moment and a wet lick until Harry's mumbling something else, accent thick and heavy and _goddamnit._ "Shut up- just shut up, Harry. Fuck." 

Michael decides Harry is a shit because he smirks and ducks down at the same time Michael fucks his hips up. The thrust is smooth, warm and wet and Michael could do this _forever_. His dick nudges the back of Harry's throat before Harry opens up and swallows him. [Michael has a fleeting image of Harry practicing to be this good at blowies- getting on his knees for anyone who'd ask and he actually, very loudly, groans.] 

"I don't remember fucking you in the back of a car..." 

Michael has never thought he was one for murder, but Harry's pushing his limits. His voice, normally so soothing and soft, is grating on his nerves because _he should be using his mouth in a different way_. Michael's heart is pounding so hard against his ribcage it feels like he's going to pass out and he's so turned on it actually _hurts_. "Gemma and Ashton fucked in a backseat now will you _please_ just getbacktoblowingmeyoustupidshit." 

The face Harry pulls would normally be hilarious and Michael would revel in being able to gross him out that much. But right now it's just annoying and Michael pushes against Harry's head again. Patience has never been his strong suit. 

"I'm never going to get hard enough to fuck you if you keep talking about my sister," Harry huffs out a breathy laugh and he's _doing this on purpose_ , Michael figures out. Of all things, they're discussing his _sister_ and this isn't happening. It's just not. 

"I'm never going to let you fuck me if you keep asking me about that damn song," Michael threatens, left hand coming up to join his right in pushing Harry back down to his cock. Thank God Harry likes having his hair pulled because Michael is past being gentle and coaxing. He's impatient to come. [They're so different than last year, it actually blows Michael's mind when he takes the time to think about it. The rough way they handle each other is a far cry from the tentative touches and languid kisses they shared the first time 'round.] 

Harry seems to get the message [or just decides to stop being a prick], goes back to working Michael with his mouth instead of just his hand. And Michael moans because _finally_. Harry is so skilled, swirling his tongue around the head of Michael's dick before he bobs back down. It drives Michael crazy. He can't help but watch as Harry moans around his cock, mesmerised by how _natural_ Harry looks with a cock in his mouth. Like he was born to do it. 

"Stop watching me," Harry mumbles even though he has his eyes closed. "Makes me nervous." 

"But you're so hot," Michael groans, throwing his head back on the pillow. Besides, he's all about watching his partners. That's why he insists they ride him. 

Harry laughs before quietly whispering, "fuck off." His lips curl into a smirk around Michael's cock and oh my _god_ , he feels the coiling in his stomach already. All the teasing and the utterly, unintentionally trashy things Harry Styles does has him on-edge, teetering. The only sound he's able to make is a strangled whimper in the back of his throat as he feels Harry's nose against his hair. 

_Perfect,_ Michael thinks as he bucks his hips harder, pushing against Harry's palms when they come to rest on his hipbones, keeping him in place. It's rude, but he's so into it. [Really, if he had his way, he'd be on top of Harry, fucking his face, but.] He can feel the slow contraction of Harry's throat, the smooth feel of Harry's tongue as it drags back up to his cockhead. Everything is heightened when he closes his eyes- like taking away one sense lights up the others. He swears he can feel the tickle of Harry's curls against his thighs, the short breaths Harry lets out as he swallows him again. 

Michael knows he lets out some unflattering curses as his fingernails bite into Harry's scalp. But he feels himself arching off the bed, chasing that high. It's right on the edge of his grasp... 

He risks a peek at Harry, which turns out to be his downfall. Harry locks their eyes and flicks his tongue across the head of Michael's dick before opening up for him. Michael's hips stutter as Harry's grip loosens and he falls apart in Harry's capable hands. 

There's no use in being quiet and even if there was, Michael probably couldn't contain himself. Harry makes him feel powerful and free, comfortable in his skin. _Attractive_. And as he comes down, Harry nuzzles into his neck, whispering sentences that mesh together so Michael can only pick out keywords like "damn" and "beautiful." 

"See? Once you shut up, we had a good time," Michael teases, running his fingers through Harry's abused hair. 

Harry rolls his eyes as he presses the softest kisses against Michael's lips. Kissing Harry is sweet and thoroughly enjoyable. Harry always takes his time, tantalisingly slow and teasing with a hint of tongue here and there. 

It's on the tip of Michael's orgasm-drunk tongue to whisper out an "I love you." He and Harry have never decided on a relationship but Harry's magnetic. Michael wants to please him, wants to be by his side. [If you ask him later, he'll say it was purely the orgasm talking.] 

Luckily, he doesn't make an ass out of himself and instead shoves Harry's shoulder, rolling him over to spoon. Harry's tall, broader than Michael but it's so comfortable to thread their legs together. Michael's the perfect height to rest his head between Harry's shoulderblades. 

"G'night, Princess," Harry mumbles, smirk evident in his voice. _Fucker._

"Shut up," Michael mumbles, already half asleep curled around Harry. "Besides, how d'you know the Princess line was about us and not Ashton and your sister." 

Harry tells him he's never blowing him again.


End file.
